I had a hankering for something Pendleton-ish. Not that I don’t have jackets, I do. Also sweaters. But as I age I look a little like a bag of something in sweaters. All my jackets are work jackets. Meaning structure and resultant discomfort. I’m clear. If no one is paying me money, I want to walk in full comfort. I want to feel like I’m in my pyjamas because I frankly could be, at any moment, if I wanted to, and didn’t worry about merging into my sofa.
I had a hankering for Buffalo Plaid. Buffalo Check. Whatever you want to call it, looks like the blanket above.
There is, oddly, a Pendleton store here on the San Francisco Bay Area Peninsula. I have to ask myself why. Not that I know the answer. I went in. The store was oddly crammed with clothing. Bad feng shui. I looked for red and black check. The women’s version was a jacket with a portrait collar. Pyjamas, in my experience, don’t have portrait collars. The saleswoman told me the style is very popular. I said, “It might be popular, but I might not like it.” She didn’t appreciate my humor. The men’s versions were closer to what I wanted, one zipped, had a hood. But I don’t fit a men’s small. And apparently very small men do not exist in the Pendleton, lumberjack-ish world.
Fortunately, my ability to conceive notions is high. The only risk in dreams is when they take you to the dustbin as they go.
Saw this when I went into J. Crew. Hmm. Understand of course that I may never buy anything. I am not a big shopper. I enjoy what we would call, in product development, the ideation. What we call in real life, daydreams. In this daydream I am snappy, a little military, not too severe. Comfortable.